I washed the last dish and set it aside. There! Finally done. I arched my back to ease out the cramps that I'm sure will feel during the night as I undid the threadbare apron around me. It has become a habit that I rarely go a day without feeling pain anymore. Pain, my constant companion.
I checked the clock hanging in the diner's kitchen. It's past 8 pm. An hour over my checkout time. Oh no! Mandy wouldn't like babysitting Alan longer than expected.
Alan, my two-year-old son. Though he is just a baby he has seen his fair share of difficulties. Life is cruel when you are poor. Add on to that Alan's health doesn't always allow him to enjoy life as it is.
Her baby has a hearing problem; which happened due to her complex pregnancy. Because of which people often mistake him for a naughty child. He is not naughty. No. Her baby is precious. Only, he couldn't hear properly, couldn't hear the frustration or anger in the people's voice.
If Mandy also backs away from babysitting Alan, I don't know what I would do. With my meager salary, it is hard enough to bring up a child with health issues. Not to forget rent, groceries, and doctor fees.
And the state is of no help as I'm a foreigner. Though Alan was born here, I don't have the necessary documents that will help me provide the aid from the state. If only his father was alive.
I swiftly wiped the tear that trickled down my cheek. Thoughts of Dante always do that to me. That's a different life Natalie, nothing will come out of it, I reprimanded myself.
I swiftly washed my hands under the running water and threw the folded apron haphazardly on the counter and walked out of the kitchen to meet Charlie.
Charlie is the owner of this dingy diner where I work as a dishwasher. At one point in my life, I didn't know which utensils were used for what. I was that ignorant.
But life has a way to teach everything. And fate had made sure I learned how to use utensils, how to clean them. This is my life now. It was not the case before. Once my life was a dream that no ordinary girl would have expected. Now...
I shoved the dark thoughts that would always bring my mood down to the darkest corner of my mind.
I wiped my hands on my worn jeans twice before approaching Charlie. He is not slimy or lecherous like some of those customers in diners I used to work with. Nor is he generous with his employees like I used to read in the novels once.
He is indifferent to my situation. After seeing many such cases with people having no dime to their name, barely scraping to eat, Charlie started to care less. Life does that to you.
I shuffled my feet, not knowing how to ask this but I have to. I have no choice.
"Charlie," I mumbled as I wet my dry lips. I swiped my clammy palms once again on my jeans and called him louder.
"Ya," Charlie asked carelessly as he drank the beer from his can.
"I... I need some money," I whispered, afraid that if I raised my voice, he might think of it as a demand.
"Money? I gave you just two weeks ago," he scoffed.
I wet my dry lips, clasping my hands before me, and pleaded, "yes, yes, you have. And I'm so grateful for that. But Alan is having some issues. I'm afraid his infection has come back. I need to take him to the hospital. Could you..." I hardened my heart and begged, "could you please give me $150?"
"$150! That's outrageous. You want an advance without work! What do you think I'm? A saint? I haven't opened a charity house here. You work, you get paid. If you have any problem with that, you are always free to leave. There are a dime a dozen who are unemployed," he glared at me as if I had asked for a share in his property.
"I... Charlie, I wouldn't ask if it is not for Alan. Please, he is sick. I need the money. I swear I will repay you by working overtime," I pleaded, clutching my hands so tightly in front of me that the nails pierced my skin.
Charlie assessed me with a dangerous glint. He put the can he was drinking on the table in front of him and rubbed his chin. I don't like the look in his eye. A strange unease crept up my spine.
Though he never dared to look at me differently, he is drunk now. High on alcohol. I darter my eyes scanning for any soul present in the diner. It is empty.
"How much did you say the amount was?" Charlie asked as he scrutinized me from top to bottom as if I'm a bug.
"One...one fifty dollars," I mumbled, wishing to be anywhere but here.
"One fifty dollars! That's a huge amount to give a mere dishwasher. Don't you think? What will you do for that amount?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked with a frown between my eyebrows
"How important is money to you?"
I dropped my hands to my sides. I know where this is going, but I won't think about it. Why, oh why, can't a human being help others without asking anything in return?
Charlie is not the first owner to pin me with his lecherous stare. But I expected better from him. When will I learn that life is not fair!
I clenched my fists at my sides as I raised to my full height which is nothing more than 5'.3'' and asked in a stern voice, "What are you suggesting Charlie?"
I wanted to say cut the crap, come to the point. But I held it back. Perhaps, he doesn't mean anything with that question.
"You are a young girl, Natalie. Still in my early twenties. You must be in college. Alas, fate has dealt a rough hand with you. Maybe it is not late yet. We can satisfy each other's needs. One fuck. That's it. Then you can have your 150 dollars. That's not a bad deal, I say," Charlie leered as he licked his lips staring at my ample chest.
I curbed the urge to cross my arms over my chest. No. I haven't done wrong to feel ashamed.
"Go. To. Hell," I said between my clenched jaw as anger boiled inside me.
Charlie blinked his eyes as if I were speaking a foreign language. I was never the one to raise my voice. That doesn't mean I don't have the fire inside me. I may be meek but not spineless.
Charlie glared at me and slammed his fist on the table before him in anger.
"You dare speak to me like that after I gave you a solution? Who do you think you are to be an uppity bitch? You are just a dishwasher. You know what, you are not that too. You are fired!"
The anger left me as quickly as it came. "But-"
Charlie cut off my questioning as he said firmly, "pack your things and leave."
Unexpected tears gathered in my eyes. I could beg on my knees, but I think it won't do any good unless I... no! I may be poor, but I'm not at a point where selling my body is the only resort.
Gathering my pride around myself as an invisible cloak, I straightened my spine and went to the kitchen to collect my bag.
"Bitch!" Charlie muttered under his breath.
I ignored his ramblings and entered the kitchen and swiftly took my bag. I looked at the remains of the food that Charlie had set aside to throw away.
I peered a glance behind me to check whether he was looking in this direction and hastily rolled the food in a paper.
I safely tucked the food in my bag and clutched it tightly to my chest as if it held gold in it and left the diner without a backward glance.
Yes, I stole the food in the diner. It's not like anyone is going to eat it. Some may say it is spoiled, but this is the only food I could afford. I clutched my stomach as it protested its hungry ramblings as the stale bread I ate in the morning was long gone.
I bent my head, not making any eye contact with anyone as I walked faster on the street.
My mind though couldn't help but point out the mistake I have made. Charlie has fired me. Fired. That means one less job.
One less job equals less money. I'm already struggling with two jobs. How can I manage with one job? Where will I get the money for Alan's doctor fee?
I swallowed the lump in my throat at life's injustice. What a joke? His father was a billionaire yet I don't have $150 to treat his infection.
A sob tore through me. How did my life become this? Where did everything go wrong? My eyes welled up as I thought about Alan. I wiped the tears with my left hand and continued my walk on this seedy street that is filled with strip clubs, dingy diners, and warehouses.
As I was passing the strip club, my eyes landed on the poster stuck to its door. It's a 'job' advertisement. Though saying it is a job, is a little stretchy. They are looking for strippers.
I stopped in my tracks as I looked at the salary. My eyes bulged thinking what the amount will do to us, to Alan. I could hire a babysitter that doesn't complain like Mandy.
We could live comfortably eating two meals a day. I can have a proper meal that is not spoiled for once. And Alan... Alan can finally have his check-up. But am I ready for this? Ready to strip before a group of strangers?
